Where there is death
by Inkognito97
Summary: He had reclaimed Erebor, killed Azog and won the battle, but he was not sure that it was all worth the prize…


A short one-shot. I hope you like it.^^

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit or any of its characters. Some parts of the dialogue were taken directly out of the movie, they were sometimes a little altered.

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Where there is death…

Thorin Oakenshield was panting heavily, while he gazed at the dead body of his mortal enemy. Azog the defiler had been killed, killed by his sword, to never terrorize Middle Earth again. A large pile of imaginary rocks were lifted off his shoulders at that thought, only to be replaced by a huge mountain. He had killed Azog, but at what prize?

The king under the mountain turned around, his eyes immediately landing on his two nephews, who were fighting side by side with a red haired elven maid. They were winning against the brute of Azog, which is why he did not run to them, but instead searched for somebody else.

There, lying almost motionless on the sick ice, laid the person, he was looking for. Without thinking or hesitating another precious second, did he run forward. His sword clattered to the ground next to the wounded being, the dark haired dwarf needed his arms to lift the bleeding being up from the cold ground.

"Bilbo," he said breathless. The Hobbit stirred, his face turning into a grimace, before he opened his eyes. They were full of pain and misery. "Bilbo, what have you done? You stupid Halfling."

"Not a Halfling," said male whispered and Thorin had to strain his hearing to understand him, "not half of anything."

The king's blue eyes closed for a moment and he shook his head. "No, no… you are truly one great warrior, somebody who would give his life to save everybody he cares about. And why? Because he has such a big heart, helping a bunch of ungrateful dwarves, just because they do not have a home like he does. You are not half of anything, you are a hero." And Thorin meant that with all his heart. Only a true hero would have thrown himself at Azog and therefore saved the dwarven king's life.

"Tho…Thorin," the male with the hairy feet coughed and blood trickled out of his mouth.

"Easy, don't strain yourself too much. I'm sure help is already on the way." In fact Thorin had seen Kili and Fili, as well as the elven maid, coming their way, but as soon as they had spotted Bilbo, they had turned and ran back to the others.

"I'm sure…" a shudder ran through the Hobbit, "I'm sure… that, that you'll be a… a great king." It was hard for the wounded male to speak. Every breath hurt, as if his lungs were on fire and the edge of his vision was beginning to darken too. "I just… just wish that I, I could… could see it."

"Don't talk like this Master Baggins, of course you will see it."

The other male's eyes became sad. "Please don't lie… not now."

Thorin nodded reluctantly, "You cannot give up. What about your books, your armchair and the acorn you wanted to plant in your garden?"

Bilbo was slower to reply this time, "I trust… I trust you to… to plant it. And for my home… give… make sure my cousin… Primula gets it."

"Bilbo…" his couldn't speak around the lump in his throat.

"Thorin, I don't want… to part from this world… as enemies." The younger male's eyes were pleading. "I am so sorry… so sorry for taking the arkenstone."

Thorin sighed, his heart was heavy. "You do not need to be forgiven…" a pause, "I would take back my words and deeds at the gate. You did what only a true friend would do. Forgive me. I was too blind to see it. I am so sorry that I have led you into such peril."

A small smile appeared on bloody features. More and more blood was escaping his mouth and from the fatal wound in his chest. "No, I'm glad to have shared… in your perils, Thorin. Each and… every one of them. It's far more… far more than every Baggins… deserve." It sounded as if he had real trouble breathing and not only because of the pain. He had closed his eyes.

"No, Bilbo. You have to hold on," Thorin realized that it would be too late, when he allowed his loyal companion to close his eyes. "Open your eyes!"

The Hobbit did after some struggling. He would follow his king's orders till his death. "Farewell… my king."

"No!" there were footsteps quickly approaching and the sound of wings in the air. "No! Don't give up, not now… not when we are so close. Bilbo," his tone was pleading again, when the younger male closed his eyes once more, "Bilbo look, the eagles. The eagles are here. Help has arrived." There was no reaction, the Hobbit did not look.

"Bilbo!" this was the voice of Gandalf and not a moment later Thorin was gently yet firmly moved away from his position. He resisted at first, but eventually he had given in. He knew the outcome, even Gandalf knew that he couldn't do anything. He still tried though, probably for the sake of the approaching company that stood behind Thorin, waiting and hoping for a wonder that would not come.

The king under the mountain was aware of the salty teary that were running down his cheeks, but he didn't care. He had reclaimed Erebor, killed Azog and won the battle, but he was not sure that it was all worth the prize…

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